Red and Dead
by danafuchs
Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate a case. The killer sees red, literally.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Red and Dead  
Author: DanaFuchs  
Rating: R  
Category: XRA  
Spoilers: non that are worth mentioning  
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance  
Archive: Yes. But let me know where, please.  
Feedback: Always! I'm living for it!  
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine... They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox. I'm not making any money with this and I'm not making any money anyway, so don't sue me, please... You can however send Mulder over to punish me^^

Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate a case. The killer sees red, literally.

Author's Notes: I wrote this for a FF Challenge on the German board . I came in third and won some lovely bookmarks! The task was to write a story surrounding a color. Obviously I choose red. I also submitted the english version of this story to XFU's Ulitmate Fanfiction Contest 2009 and I won the Case File Category! Also this story was voted "most original Fanfic"

Thank you: A special thank you goes out to everyone at XFM that voted for this story. Without you, I'm nothing!

Also I have to thank the jury of the Ultimate Fanfiction Contest! I really wouldn't have expected to win this category, given that I'm not a native speaker.

* * *

Red and Dead

* * *

Sculpture Garden,  
April 14th  
09:00 am

Mulder watched the salvage works wistfully. The rays of sunlight dancing over the water and the chirping of birds in the bass wood surrounding the fountain suggested that it would be a nice spring day.

He thought of all the nice days he had spent here with his partner to have lunch in the Pavilion Caf? or simply because she thought that it was time for fresh air and sunshine instead of the muggy basement office he called his own.

His gaze wandered to the persons causing waves in the still water. He would never be able to enjoy the beauty of the Sculpture Garden again, without remembering today's discovery.

The raft that had been anchored in the middle of the water had now been pulled to the shore by two colleagues of the crime scene team eerily fit into the surroundings.

The ends of the wooden beams keeping the raft afloat were skilfully ornamented. At the corners four beams went up, holding a shining white sheet between them that reflected the sunlight and kept the long sides from curious glances.

But Fox Mulder knew what expected him inside without taking a look. He had already felt it when they had called him and told him about the raft and the place it had been found.

Sighing, he approached the salvage workers, thanked the men and advised them to get a coffee and warm up. Once he was alone he went around the raft, taking in every small detail.

The ornaments on the beams showed leaves that also went around he upright beams.

The floor was also covered with white sheets dotted with single flower petals. The petals were arranged in a spiral pattern and in their middle lay the dead body of a young woman.

The woman's legs were bent, her peaceful face was resting on her hands and her eyes were closed.

It looked as if she was only sleeping.

But she was dead

And she was naked.

But most of all she was one thing: red.

FBI Academy  
April 14th  
09:15 am

Even while she filed the autopsy report she tried to repress the pictures of the young woman lying on the metal table in the room next door.

Even though the Washington P.D. was experienced with murder cases, the FBI got involved soon after they found the body. The body didn't show any injuries and the modus operandi of the killer suggested that it wasn't the first crime he had committed.

As they requested a profiler and a pathologist Skinner had assigned

the case to them.

Shaking her head, she put the finished report in her briefcase and pulled out her cell phone. She jumped as it began to ring loudly as she was about to press the speed dial button with the number of her partner.

"Scully, it's me." Mulder's worried voice sounded over the line

before she could say anything.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked equally worried.

"They found another body." he answered seriously.

Scully's hands began trembling slightly and she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture while her partner gave her the details.

"I'll be there as fast as I can." she said and hung up.

The body had been found in Sculpture Garden, too. The victim's body had also been colored red. Scully presumed that the color was the cause of death like it had been with the first victim.

She took a deep breath and swallowed to loosen the knot that had appeared in her throat.

Then she took another deep breath, this time to suppress the sparking anger.

She was angry because there were no traces leading to the killer and because her autopsy hadn't given them new clues either.

But mostly she was angry at herself, at her weakness.

When she had arrived at the first crime scene she had already been flooded with the hated feeling of helplessness.

The body had been draped across one of the sculptures.

"Six Part Seating" by Scott Burton she remembered.

The sculpture consisted of six chairs made of red granite arranged in a circle.

One of the chairs had been covered with a white sheet, shining in the sun and blowing in the wind gently. The body had been covered with a sheet, too. All in all it looked like she belonged to the sculpture.

She had seen many terrible things during her time with the FBI - especially since she was working with Mulder. However the sight of the young woman sent a shiver down her spine.

Of course her partner had noticed her tremble. She had blamed her reaction on the cool wind, blowing through the elms and the magnolias.

She could see in his eyes that he didn't believe her, but he hadn't pushed it.

She shook her head again, grabbed her coat and her briefcase and headed out to the J. Edgar Hoover Building, where she was to meet Mulder.

X-Files Office,  
April 14th  
10:00 a.m.

As Scully entered the small, dark basement office, her attention was first drawn to the bulletin board, showing pictures of the two victims and some notes of both agents. The lamp on Mulder's desk, the only active source of light at the moment, was aimed directly at the board and the shiny pictures were reflecting the white glowing light.

Mulder was nowhere to be seen and Scully allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment in order to prepare herself for the analysis of the crime scene photos. She was startled out of her reverie as her partner's left hand came to rest on her right shoulder and his right hand held a steaming cup of coffee under her nose.

"You okay, Scully?" he asked sounding worried after he switched on the light. "You look pale," he added hesitantly.

"I'm fine, Mulder."

"Liar," he answered with a penetrating gaze.

"I just didn't get much sleep," she added and changed the subject.

"As a matter of fact I haven't been able to find any injuries on the outside of the body. Her organs were functioning perfectly as well.

The results from the tox screen won't arrive before tonight, but I doubt that she was poisoned," she reported.

"Cause of death?" Mulder inquired, after adding her explanations to his eidetic memory.

"Sarah Monroe died because of paint, Mulder," Scully replied. "Her mouth, lungs and respiratory tracks were full of it. She was drowned in paint, Mulder."

Mulder nodded and looked at her expectantly.

"There are slight abrasions on the wrists and ankles. Post mortem. Probably from dragging the body out of the paint."

Her partner nodded again. Scully took another deep breath.

"I found fibers in the dried paint."

"But the sheet she was covered with was clean," Mulder interjected.

This time it was Scully's turn to nod.

"Yes, she was wrapped into a sheet before. Maybe to transport her.

The fibers are still in the lab," she finished.

"The name of the second victim is Jenny Bryson. 33. She was reported missing on Saturday after she set her boyfriend up and he couldn't reach her."

Mulder, who didn't miss Scully's frown as he mentioned the age of the woman, gave her a few moments to process the information. She swallowed quickly and told him with a nod of the head to continue.

"She was found this morning by an employee of the caf?. She drifted on the water of the fountain, which was still turned off at that hour."

Scully took the photo of the latest victim form the wall and looked at it skeptically.

"The body doesn't look like it came into contact with water," she noticed.

"It hasn't," her partner explained and handed her another picture which he lifted from the desk.

"A raft," Scully said. Mulder nodded.

"I expected the next victim to be found in the Sculpture Garden as well - after all he seems to be familiar enough with the place to get in and out unnoticed. But I anticipated him to choose another sculpture to place the body."

Scully nodded.

"Yes, it seems the sculptures don't mean as much to him as we thought," she confirmed. "However it is important to him to present the bodies."

"Yes, I think we're dealing with an artist, Scully. A young man, probably in his early thirties, like his victims. He chooses them carefully, maybe contacts them." Mulder's eyes lost their focus for a short moment - Scully knew this expression well. It meant that he was forgetting the world around him and entered the killer's mind.

These periods, which could only be described as trance, lasted for different time spans and just happened. Those sudden intuitions were the reason for his unloved nickname.

"Did they find any connections between the victims?" Scully asked after Mulder's concentration had returned.

"No, not yet. We didn't find any traces this time either - not a surprising because of the water."

After he handed her another photo he continued. "The wooden beams were sent to an expert after the examination for trace evidence.

Maybe he can tell us more about the sort of the wood and especially about the cravings."

Scully nodded.

"There wasn't much to do for the crime scene team so we were able to clear the area before the Sculpture Garden opened up so the press doesn't know about this yet. This is an advantage for us, of course."

"What about the employee who discovered the body?" Scully asked. She was aware of the fact that some newspapers and TV channels were paying a lot for such a story.

But Mulder shook his head.

"He is in shock. A FBI psychologist is taking care of him. We have an eye on him", he reported. "I'm curious about the reaction of our artist. He loves attention, he won't like this."

"He is going to kill again."

Mulder sighed. "That's exactly what we're trying to prevent, Scully," he answered, stood and headed for the door. "Come on," he called over his shoulder. "We're going to have a conversation with the boyfriend of the victim."


	2. Chapter 2

Georgetown  
April 14th  
11:00 am

Mulder only had to take one look at Derek Jefferson to know that he wasn't a possible suspect.

Dark rings below his blood-shot eyes suggested more than one sleepless night and made the thirty-six year old man appear much older.

"Mr. Jefferson, I know this is hard for you but we have to ask you some questions", Scully began her interrogation appropriately, while Mulder took in the apartment of the victim and her boyfriend.

"Tell us something about Jenny", Scully asked gently.

He sighted.

"She... she is... was... a wonderful person. She was kind and so intelligent."

"And she looked well", both Mulder and Scully added to themselves.

A small smile played across Jefferson's lips.

"You know, before we got involved we have been friends for years. She was the first person in the world to make me feel worth anything. Just thinking about how much time we wasted..." His voice trailed off and so did Mulder's thoughts. They wandered to the petit person next to him. He could have said the same about her.

"Do you think this has something to do with her work?" Jefferson asked suddenly and ended his thoughts.

Surprised, he looked at Scully, who looked away quickly. He could swear he saw her blush, but he wasn't sure if that was because she had thought the same or just because she was embarrassed because neither of them knew anything about Jenny Bryson's job.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jefferson, but what was Ms. Bryson's job?" Mulder inquired.

"She was working for CDER." He explained tersely. Mulder looked at Scully questioningly.

"I don't think that your girlfriend's job has anything to do with her job." She said. "Of course the decisions made by the Center of Drug Evaluation and Research are important to many pharmaceutical companies, but we don't think that the killer has any economic or political goals," she summarized.

"CDER belongs to the FDA, doesn't it?" Mulder asked and continued as both Jefferson and Scully nodded. "The building of the Food and Drug Administration is not too far away from the National Gallery of Art."

"Yes," Jefferson agreed. "That's where I met her. At that time I was still with the FTC. We met in the café accidentally." He sighed heavily. "Even after I quit working for the Federal Trade Commission, we met there regularly."

Mulder wrote it down while his suspicion that the killer spend much time in the Sculpture Garden and met his victims there for the first time substantiated.

"Thank you, Mr. Jefferson. You were very helpful," he said after exchanging a quick look with Scully that confirmed that she had not further questions.

Jefferson nodded. "Could... do you know when the body will be released for the funeral?" he asked as he showed him out.

"I will do the autopsy myself," Scully explained. "And I assure you that you will be informed immediately."

Jefferson nodded gratefully and closed the front door behind the agents.

After Mulder had opened the car door for Scully he moved around the vehicle and sank down in the driver's seat.

He only though about the fact that the killer probably met his victims in the Sculpture Garden, maybe even talked about the place where they were found later. His thoughts were circling around a remark that Jefferson made. "Just thinking about how much time we wasted..."

He quickly glanced at his partner who was concentrating on reading her notes.

Suddenly it was painfully clear to him that death was everywhere, especially in his job. He vowed to himself to spend as much time as possible with this wonderful person next to him. Maybe he would even gather the courage to admit his feelings to her.

After a look at the clock he finally broke the silence.

"Scully, why don't you let me buy you lunch before heading back to Quantico?"

She smiled. "Victory", he thought.

"Lunch sounds good, Mulder," she said, "but you don't have to treat me."

"I insist."

She sighed, which he took as agreement.

"Sometimes you make it really hard for me to be nice to you, Scully," he teased.

Autopsy Bay, FBI Academy  
April 14th  
01:30 pm

Scully had done all she could to make lunch with Mulder last as long as possible. On the one hand she liked spending time with this man who was fascinating her so much and was one of the few male agents that had treated her as an equal partner from the beginning, on the other hand, because she needed time to prepare for another autopsy.

As she carefully removed the sheet covering the body, an unpleasant feeling spread in her stomach again.

She shook her head.

She didn't only hate the feeling itself. It also reminded her, that she had weaknesses, she couldn't always control. But mostly she was upset because she didn't know why.

She had seen much worse. Dismembered bodies, all kinds of mutants, healthy persons murdered in most brutal ways. However it was dead bodies like that of Jenny Bryson that curdled her blood – although the body didn't show any injuries on the outside. Except for the paint she looked perfectly normal.

Scully didn't know if it was because the victims were her age and this showed her how short life was, or because the victims had died so soon, but there life had been more fulfilled than hers would ever be.

She shook her head again. The psycho stuff was Mulder's area of expertise. She had to concentrate on the science.

After she took one last deep breath she turned on the microphone that was hanging down from the ceilings.

"I begin autopsy on Jennifer Bryson. Age 33. Caucasian. Height: 5'38'', Weight : 120 lb."

She rounded the body slowly. "The body shows no signs of injuries on the outside."

Carefully she lifted the victim's arms and looked closely at the wrists.

"There is no evidence indicating that the victim defended herself."

She hesitated. "However it is possible that small bruises might be covered by the paint. I'm going to take some more photos before removing the paint and continuing with the examination of the organs."

She switched the recorder off and walked over to one of the cupboards determinately.

X-Files Office,  
April 14th  
02:30 pm

Mulder had been staring blankly at the screen in front of him for the past half hour.

The only thing he had typed so far was his handwritten notes. He wasn't getting anywhere. He already had collected quite a lot of information on the killer, but the most important piece was missing and without it the rest of the puzzle didn't make any sense.

All the information flickering across the screen in front of him was only small details. He knew that it was often these details that convicted the suspect in the end, however it was nearly impossible to find a suspect that matches all the details. You had to start with a large-meshed net and close it later.

He was sure that the killer was male, white and in his early thirties.

Furthermore he was a frequent visitor of the Sculpture Garden, but there had to be hundreds of persons among the thousands of visitors fitting that description.

The ringing of the telephone startled him. He blinked the blankness out of his eyes and looked at the clock in confusion. Scully couldn't normally be done with the autopsy yet. Did that mean that Scully had found something?

Hopeful, he reached for the receiver.

"Mulder."

But it wasn't the lovely voice of his partner that answered them.

The deep voice, coming through the receiver, sounded angry, but despite that the words caused his hope to rise.

"Do you know where the tip came from yet?" he cut his boss of.

"That is our smallest problem, Agent Mulder!" Skinner replied.

"Every newspaper and TV channel in this city is demanding a statement from us!"

"Sir, I assure you, that nobody from our team gave information to outsiders. Maybe it was the witness or even the killer himself.

His gaze met the screen.

"Sir, I think the tip came from the killer himself - after all he thinks of himself as an artist and wants attention."

Skinner sighed.

"I think that we could use that statement to get a rise out of him."

Mulder could see Skinner removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in front of his mind's eye.

"Ok, Mulder, write a statement. The press conference will start in an hour."

He hung up.

FBI Headquarters  
April 14th  
03:42 pm.

Mulder stood at the exit of the conference room and observed the pack of reporters gathered in front of him.

He had insisted that all journalists had to inform them about their sources before they were allowed to enter the room. So far all of them either reported anonymous calls or had from it through the media themselves.

While Skinner began reading out the statement, Mulder's gaze wandered through the crowd. He wasn't sure how big the killer's need for appreciation was, but if he has assessed him correctly he wouldn't let this opportunity to experience the reactions to his work firsthand pass.

It was almost as if he could feel the presence of evil, as it brewed beneath the treacherous cover of normality - whatever that was. He concentrated on this subliminal feeling of darkness with all his might, when suddenly a bright light blazed a trail into his consciousness.

The light emanated hope and sympathy but most of all it emanated friendship and love. Although he couldn't see the source of the light yet, he was sure who radiated it. It had already saved him from the darkest depth of his being so many times that he'd recognize it everywhere.

As he turned he looked into the ocean blue eyes of Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully.

"Do you think he's here?" she asked as if she read the first part of his thoughts. If she read the rest too she decided to ignore it – as he did. As always.

"He won't miss this. His first page made the headlines everywhere.

The first thing he did after nothing was published after his second crime was to call the press. To witness the reaction first hand has to be a big deal for him."

Now she nodded.

"You stay here. I'll go get a look of the group from the front." she decided and marched towards the podium on which her superior stood.

Although Skinner had just finished with the salutation and it would get interesting soon, Scully could feel that some persons, colleagues as well as journalist, turned their attention from Skinner to watch her walk past them through the aisle and positioning herself next to the podium instead.

She knew that many men thought that she was attractive, but she wasn't accustomed to such looks. Most men she met seemed to be intimidated by Mulder's presence.

As Skinner began to recite the facts most eyes left her. But she could still feel the looks here and there.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that one of these men could be the killer. No one knew she was right.

With a nod of his head, Mulder let her know, that Skinner would now read the part of the statement written to provoke the killer, so that he might blow his cover. She nodded back as a sign that she had understood und concentrated on the crowd before her.

When Skinner said the word "copycat" most listeners began making notes.

Almost disappointed, Mulder noticed that no one acted very suspicious, jumped up or turned often.

He had succeeded in upsetting the killer, only his attention was completely focused on his partner.


	3. Chapter 3

X-Files Office  
April 14th  
05:00 pm

Scully let the file fall to the tabletop in front of Mulder to get her partner's attention.

"It could have worked, Mulder. Maybe he will be in touch or make a mistake" she said softly.

He snorted and picked to autopsy report up.

"The victims were anesthetized" Scully reported. "I haven't found any needle punctures. He probably mixed the drug with their food or a drink."

Mulder nodded. "They trusted him, but I don't think he knew them well."

"Maybe he really met them at the Caf? at the Sculpture Garden and mixed something into their coffee" Scully suggested.

Mulder closed his eyes and sighed. Scully rested a hand on his arm.

"We will find him, Mulder" she encouraged him.

He looked up at her with a smile.

"Do you have plans for tonight?" he asked and smirked as she gave in an irritated look and even flushed a bit.

Sculpture Garden, National Gallery of Art  
April 14th  
05:55 pm

"Mulder, what are we doing here?" Scully asked and dug her hands into the pockets of her coat. The warm spring day had turned into a chilly evening "I have to think the way the killer does to catch him. I have to see the surroundings like he sees it" he explained und sank down on one of the benches.

Scully sat down and looked at him expectantly.

"He is fascinated by this place, Scully. And I think that he likes being alone here at night, when it's closed" he added finally.

"Until now we haven't been able to determine how he gets in" Scully interrupted.

"Exactly. That means that he knows this place very well – especially at night."

Scully nodded.

"Why paint?" Scully asked, wrapping her coat around herself tightly.

"Are you cold?" Mulder inquired worriedly and put an arm around her.

"Why paint?" she repeated and ignored his gesture, but allowed it.

"He is an artist. Artists work with paint..." he began. She interrupted him with a skeptical look. "I've been thinking about the meaning of the color for some time now."

Playfully, he pulled her closer. "Red, Scully. What meaning does that have to you?"

"Love" she answered spontaneously, then flushed as she realized what she had just said while his arm was around her shoulders and she was leaning against him.

Mulder didn't seem to notice for he only nodded.

"Did you know that in Japan red is the color of women and that it also symbolizes danger?"

Scully pulled away and shook her head.

Mulder nodded knowingly. "I don't think that's the reason for his choice, though. It probably is about love - one of the oldest motives in the world. The killer wants acceptance and respect that is a form of love, too. He is a passionate person. Passion is also associated with the color red. As well as danger and death."

"Blood-red" Scully whispered.

Mulder looked down at his partner and observed the way the setting sun highlighted her shimmering hair with fascination.

The men hidden in the bushes behind him shared his thoughts.

But the stranger in the bushes saw more than that. He could see the insides of the persons in front of him.

The man was surrounded by a dark brown aura, a mixture of feelings with different colors and a great deal of black that led to the conclusion that he had been haunted by negative events, thoughts and feelings for a long time.

He was completely uninteresting for the artist.

But his partner seemed to be exactly what he had been searching for.

Her aura shimmered in the most beautiful red he had ever laid eyes on. She radiated warmth - heat even - passion and an incredible amount of love. But he could also sense the warning of danger emanating from her.

But before he could turn his attention to the object of his desire he had to finish his latest project.

He sighed softly and glanced at the bundle next to him.

A failed attempt, regardless he wanted to display it perfectly, so that it would receive the attention it deserved.

Not wanting to scare his future prey, he carefully moved to the location of his next presentation.

He rounded half of the fountain with the bundle on his back and then placed it on the ground where it was protected from curious looks.

Afterwards he busied himself with arranging the white sheets he had pulled from his bag.

As usual he had chosen one of his favorite statues. "Spider" by Louis Bourgeois.

He had always been fascinated by the elegance of the statue. He fondly draped the sheets across the legs of the huge spider so that they formed a roof under which he placed the body.

Finally he spanned some ropes to create a huge spider net that completed his work.

Only one thing was missing. A short flash of light illuminated the area and the artist put the camera away. He was aware that the sudden flashing of light must have alarmed the agents, however he didn't hurry to get away but walked toward them covered by the bushes.

Both Mulder and Scully jumped up when the flashlight appeared. They looked at each other.

"The killer?" her eyes asked. His agreed mutely and they started running.

Scully who had shorter legs and wore shoes, that weren't made for running, soon fell behind, but motioned for her partner to continue as he turned to her.

Panting, she stopped to pull her cell phone from her pocket. Just as she was dialing the number to call for backup something wrapped around her ankles and dragged her into the bushes.

She wanted to call for her partner, but huge, strong hands blotted with paint covered her mouth. Her eyes widened with fear yet they couldn't see much in the darkness and as the stranger covered her mouth and nose it got even darker before she finally closed her eye and lost consciousness.

Unknown location  
April 14th  
Night

Scully was freezing when she woke, but that wasn't why she woke.

Someone was gently brushing her hair out of her face.

"Mmm...Mulder?" she whispered, trying to open her eyes.

Her blurred vision focused slowly, but she immediately that the man bending over her wasn't Mulder.

She blinked and her eyes snapped open, the memory returned.

She knew this man!

Mulder had been right. He was at the press conference. Now he watched her with the same penetrating, fascinated look he had then from the front row.

"Who are you?" she asked with a surprisingly steady voice.

"Who is Mulder?" the stranger replied.

"My partner" Scully answered. She bit back a childish comment like "and he is very strong and will come soon to rescue me!" Instead she repeated her question.

"My name is Marc Dubois. It's my pleasure to make the acquaintance of a beauty like you" he said politely and led his eyes wander of her.

"I'm sorry for the circumstances."

Scully ignored his words and followed his gaze. Only now did she realize, that she was completely naked, covered only by a thin sheet and that she was tied to a bed with a skillfully ornamented metal frame. She could feel a flush creeping up her cheeks.

"What are your plans for me, Mr. Dubois?" she asked, taking in her surroundings.

She was in some kind in of atelier that seemed to be on the upper floor of an old industrial building. The windows were big and allowed much light to spill in during the day, but now the sun had set the room was only illuminated by a few single light bulbs dangling from the ceiling.

The wall behind the bed was covered with photos and posters of well-known paintings. She recognized some of the statues in the photos, too.

They were from the Sculpture Garden.

Canvases and other utensils were lined up next to the door and the wall facing the windows was decorated with Dubois' own pieces.

With horror Scully noticed the red imprints of female bodies on the huge canvases.

Dubois noticed her wide eyes and smiled.

"They are beautiful, aren't they? But they lack the certain something. Their bodies, their souls don't reflect the red the way I wanted to" he explained. "You have that something. This time I'm really sure. You are the one."

A shiver ran down Scully's spine. A part from her wanted to jump up and fight, try to overpower the man and flee. But she worked with a profiler at the FBI long enough to know that she had to remain calm.

She knew Mulder would find her. They always found each other. All she had to do was stalling for time.

"Why the statues?" she asked.

He smiled again.

"They weren't what I was looking for, but their beauty had to be appreciated" he explained. "They weren't my best works, but I wanted to publish them anyway."

"These statues mean a lot to you?" she inquired. Dubois seemed to be interested in the conversation. He seemed to blossom in her attention.

"Yes, very much. I often went there with my father. He was gravely ill, but he loved the sculptures. I wish he could see my work. He'd like it" he answered, dreamily.


	4. Chapter 4

X-Files Office  
April 15th  
02:30 am

Mulder stared helplessly at the files spread in front of him. He tried with all his might to enter the mind of this lunatic, but his own mind was barely able to deal with the flood of his own feelings.

He felt guilty for leaving his partner, although she herself had told him to. He was worried about her, feared for her. He was so angry that he couldn't catch this guy that he was close to despair.

He tried to pull himself together again and again. After all it wouldn't help Scully much if he lost his common sense. Ironically Scully had been the common sense, the brain of the department. Mulder was mostly responsible for impulsive behavior.

The ringing phone made him jump. The person on the other end sounded surprised too when Mulder answered after the second ring.

"Agent Mulder? I erm... I was going to leave a message to ask you to give me a call. We found something."

"What?" Mulder demanded.

"Well, the color was a special mixture. It has been custom-made for the killer. We should be able to determine where he got it quickly."

"Very good!" Mulder exhaled with relief. A trace. Finally. "What kind of red is it?" he asked the technician.

"I'll give you the report on my way out" he answered and hung up.

Atelier of Marc Dubois  
April 15th  
Morning

Scully watched the sunrise through the window. She tried to ignore the stench rising from the overly large bathtub under one of the windows. Her captor was stirring in it for what seemed like hours.

When he had begun to fill the tub with paint Scully had been sure her life would end soon.

Then he had begun to add other substances to the paint.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he had asked. "A special mixture. But I didn't tell them everything, of course.

"Would you tell me?" she had asked, hoping to distract him. He had simply shaken his head and turned back to his task.

Suddenly he stood in front of her, opening a bottle of water and handing it to her.

"Only water" he promised when he saw her skeptic look. Hesitating she allowed him to put the bottle to her lips.

After she drank, he put the bottle back and then motioned to a picture on the wall above the bed.

"I chose this for you" he explained proudly.

Scully fearfully looked at the poster. "Sol Le Witt - 'Four Sided Pyramid'" was written beneath a picture of a pyramid made of concrete blocks.

"Why" she asked simply, only to get him talking not because she cared to know the answer.

Dubois smiled.

"It suits you" he explained. Now Scully became curious and she demanded an explanation with a questioning look.

"It is so straight-lined. This Pyramid is a part of a world where everything can be calculated, where you need nothing more than science to explain things, Dr. Scully.

But the inside of the pyramid lies hidden behind these thick walls and nobody knows what happens there. That makes it so special, so mysterious."

Stunned, Scully looked from the poster to Dubois and back again. She nodded involuntarily and stared at him in surprise.

As her eyes locked with his she saw the glow in them.

"You *are* the one!" he announced triumphantly. "No one has ever shown interest for the sculptures I chose!" He clapped his hands, placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and turned back to the tub.

Sighing Scully closed her eyes, but instead of comforting darkness she was confronted with a slide-show.

The pyramid.

Zip.

A white sheet on the pyramid.

Zip.

A red stain on the sheet, soon growing to the size and form of a

woman.

Zip.

Her dead body laid out on the pyramid.

Zip.

Mulder kneeling down before her like a believer in front of an altar, griefing.

Scullys eyes snapped open.

She wanted to call out for him, but knew it would be in vain.

They had always been able to sense each other's presence but now she only felt her hope leaving her body. She was sure her life would follow soon.

Tears shot into her eyes, but she bravely fought them down. She couldn't give up. Mulder would find her. She closed her eyes again and concentrated on him with all her might.

She hoped that she could activate the connection between them this way, to send him a signal to make him find her faster.

Though she didn't believe in supernatural phenomena, she believed in Mulder and she could feel that it worked.

But this fresh bud of hope was nipped.

"It's time" Dubois voice sounded.

When Scully opened her eyes, she saw him moving towards her holding a glass.

Basement garage, FBI Headquarters  
April 15th  
08:30 am

Mulder impatiently opened the door on the passenger side of the FBI sedan. He nodded at the unfamiliar agent, who accelerated immediately and continued listening to the voice coming from his cell phone.

"They found two stores that sold such paint" he informed his driver.

"The last purchase was two days ago." He gave the address and they sped away.

Mulder struggled to keep hope alive and push the thought of what could happen if he was too late aside.

He never wanted a partner - and before Scully no one had wanted to be his partner for a longer period of time - yet he was sure that he'd be lost without her. He didn't know how she had managed to penetrate his soul so deeply that she had seemingly become a part of him. He only knew that he felt as if a part of him was missing.

Missing, he thought, not dead. Not yet.

He noticed that his heartbeat increased, when they drove through a deserted industrial area. Reflexively, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the message his heart wanted to submit.

He felt as if he could hear Scullys voice. It was calling for him and increased continuously until they turned and it faded again.

"STOP!" Mulder yelled at the driver. Irritated he hit the break.

"Turn around!" Mulder ordered.

The agent hesitated.

"Sir, we really should... Agent Scully is in danger and I think we should..."

Mulder interrupted him.

"Either you turn around and help me save Agent Scully's life or you get out and let me drive."

"But Sir!" the agent protested, but the sparkle in Mulder's eyes showed him clearly that he was serious and he turned around.

Mulder closed his eyes again and concentrated on Scully's voice which seemed to come closer again.

Marc Dubois Atelier  
April 15th  
08:45 am

"Come on, drink!" Dubois demanded again. Scully vehemently shook her head.

"I don't want to have to hurt you" Dubois warned.

Scully closed her eyes and sent a quick prayer to the heavens.

Please God, let Mulder arrive soon. I don't want to die yet. I have to see him again, have to tell him so much.

A sudden revelation struck her like lightning.

She wasn't ready to die without having told him how much he meant to her, how much she needed him, how much she loved him.

She concentrated on the connection between them, she had just identified as love. This time she could clearly feel that it worked.

It was as if her heart was speaking directly to his.

*I need you. I love you* it called to him.

"It's up to you!" Dubois frightening voice drew her back to the present. She opened her eyes in time to see his large left hand force her to open her mouth while the right one began feeding the numbing liquid into her.

She tried to suppress her swallowing reflex with all her might, but she failed.

MULDER! was her last thought.

Dubois contently watched the unconscious woman in front him. He hadn't caused any injuries on the outside. Her body was flawless. He waited until her breathing was normal again, then took the sheet and lifted it reverently.

Solemnly, he carried her limp body to the tub.

He lowered the beauty into the paint with the utmost precaution to finish his work.

After her elegant legs and her hips had sunk into the ocean of color he let her torso slide into it and gently pushed her shoulders down so that her head would drown in the red matter, too.

Satisfied, Dubois walked towards the basin in the corner of the room to get the precious paint off his fingers.

Suddenly the door burst open and he turned in surprise.

Mulder entered the room, gun drawn. He looked around, but couldn't find Scully. Incredible anger boiled inside him. Without hesitation he pulled the trigger and shot the man who had taken her from him.

He fell to the ground like a stone.

The initial feeling of gratification already gave way to the overwhelming feeling of loss and grief, while he bent over the man to check for a pulse.

"Sir!" the agent that accompanied him called from the other end of the room.

Mulder whirled around.

The agent had just lifted Scully's head out of the tub with red paint.

He hurried to her side.

"Call an ambulance!" he ordered. The agent nodded and left the room. Mulder's heart raced, as he carefully pulled her out of the paint. He held his breath as he gently placed her on the floor. He wasn't able to exhale before he saw that she, too, was still breathing.

He lifted her again, placed her on the bed and gently covered her with the sheet. Then he whipped the wet paint from her face and gently caressed her cheeks.

"Scully, can you hear me?" he asked carefully, hoping she would open her ocean blue eyes and bless him with one of her rare beautiful smiles.

Instead she began coughing and choking.

Relief loosened his rigor and he helped her to sit up. He softly stroked her sticky hair, while she coughed up the remainder of the paint.

He found an unopened and she gratefully took some sips.

"Mulder" she murmured while she buried her head in his chest and allowed him to pull her into his arms.

"Shhh... it's okay, Scully. Rest" he soothed her. She sighed and closed her eyes.

She enjoyed his closeness, the warmth of his arms around her and every time she inhaled his scent helped to calm her until her breathing slowed.

Mulder pulled his sleeping partner close.

"I love you, too" he whispered, barely audible.

Reluctantly he allowed the EMTs that had arrived to take her out of his arms and place her on a gurney.

Everything was going to be okay.

The End


End file.
